I had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up."

He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at

the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane.

This he opened and made a very careful examination of the sill

with his powerful magnifying lens. "Now we shall go upstairs,"

said he at last.

The banker's dressing-room was a plainly furnished little

chamber, with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror.

Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock.

"Which key was used to open it?" he asked.

"That which my son himself indicated--that of the cupboard of the

lumber-room."

"Have you it here?"

"That is it on the dressing-table."

Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau.

"It is a noiseless lock," said he. "It is no wonder that it did

not wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must

have a look at it." He opened the case, and taking out the diadem

he laid it upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the

jeweller's art, and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I

have ever seen. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge,

where a corner holding three gems had been torn away.

"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "here is the corner which

corresponds to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I

beg that you will break it off."

The banker recoiled in horror. "I should not dream of trying,"

said he.

"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but

without result. "I feel it give a little," said he; "but, though

I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my

time to break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do

you think would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would

be a noise like a pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this

happened within a few yards of your bed and that you heard

nothing of it?"

"I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me."

"But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think,

Miss Holder?"

"I confess that I still share my uncle's perplexity."

"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?"

"He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt."

"Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary

luck during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault

If we do not succeed in clearing the matter up. With your

permission, Mr. Holder, I shall now continue my investigations

outside."

He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any

unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an

hour or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet

heavy with snow and his features as inscrutable as ever.

"I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr.

Holder," said he; "I can serve you best by returning to my

rooms."

"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?"

"I cannot tell."

The banker wrung his hands. "I shall never see them again!" he

cried. "And my son? You give me hopes?"

"My opinion is in no way altered."

"Then, for God's sake, what was this dark business which was

acted in my house last night?"

"If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms to-morrow

morning between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to

make it clearer. I understand that you give me carte blanche to

act for you, provided only that I get back the gems, and that you

place no limit on the sum I may draw."

"I would give my fortune to have them back."

"Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then.

Good-bye; it is just possible that I may have to come over here

again before evening."

It was obvious to me that my companion's mind was now made up

about the case, although what his conclusions were was more than

I could even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward

journey I endeavoured to sound him upon the point, but he always

glided away to some other topic, until at last I gave it over in

despair. It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our

rooms once more. He hurried to his chamber and was down again in

a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned

up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn boots, he

was a perfect sample of the class.

"I think that this should do," said he, glancing into the glass

above the fireplace. "I only wish that you could come with me,

Watson, but I fear that it won't do. I may be on the trail in

this matter, or I may be following a will-o'-the-wisp, but I

shall soon know which it is. I hope that I may be back in a few

hours." He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard,

sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, and thrusting this

rude meal into his pocket he started off upon his expedition.

I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in

excellent spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his

hand. He chucked it down into a corner and helped himself to a

cup of tea.

"I only looked in as I passed," said he. "I am going right on."

"Where to?"

"Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time

before I get back. Don't wait up for me in case I should be

late."

"How are you getting on?"

"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham

since I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a

very sweet little problem, and I would not have missed it for a

good deal. However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get

these disreputable clothes off and return to my highly

respectable self."

I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for

satisfaction than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled,

and there was even a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He

hastened upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of

the hall door, which told me that he was off once more upon his

congenial hunt.

I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so

I retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away

for days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that

his lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he

came in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there

he was with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the

other, as fresh and trim as possible.

"You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson," said he, "but

you remember that our client has rather an early appointment this

morning."

"Why, it is after nine now," I answered. "I should not be

surprised if that were he. I thought I heard a ring."

It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the

change which had come over him, for his face which was naturally

of a broad and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in,

while his hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered

with a weariness and lethargy which was even more painful than

his violence of the morning before, and he dropped heavily into

the armchair which I pushed forward for him.

"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said

he. "Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without

a care in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured

age. One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece,

Mary, has deserted me."

"Deserted you?"

"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was

empty, and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to

her last night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had

married my boy all might have been well with him. Perhaps it was

thoughtless of me to say so. It is to that remark that she refers